


React

by WeAllFlyHigh



Series: Duplicate [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, That's Not How Science Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeAllFlyHigh/pseuds/WeAllFlyHigh
Summary: Gilbert is smitten and Mathew is cautious. Love is something that everyone wants but secrets can feel so much safer.
Relationships: Canada/Prussia (Hetalia)
Series: Duplicate [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580686
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	React

"Psst…hey." The dramatic orchestra of the film covers up his whispered shout. Gilbert kicks the desk in front of him again. "Hey Mattie!" He could see the desk move with each thump.

Mathew only pauses his note taking for a moment. The blond glares at Gilbert over his shoulder. The look is short and annoyed, but it satisfies him.

Mathew Williams is an angel. His hair looks like spun gold. His eyes are a shade that Gilbert's never seen before and it makes him think of fields filled with wildflowers. And his skin…he's never actually touched Mathew, but he can imagine. It looks like smooth polished marble and he just knows it has to be soft and warm and perfect. Everything about him seems perfect.

He's smart too and kind. Normally Gilbert doesn't go for calm and gentle types but it's different this time. He's never seen him shout and he's let half the class borrow his notes. Although he thinks there's more behind Mathew's sweet smiles than he lets on. He could swear that he's seen Mathew roll his eyes at some of their classmates during class discussions.

They have one class together, German History: 1900 to the Present, and he spends the entirety of it spellbound. Ever since the first day, when Mathew stumbled into class five minutes late with glitter filled mud smeared across his knees and butchered his introduction, Gilbert knew he was done for. It didn't matter that Mathew had been nothing but the perfect student since then, and maybe the allure of finding out what had happened only made him all the more tempting. All he knew was that this lovely little birdie is something spectacular.

Needless to say, his grade may be doomed. Which really is a shame because the radicalization and formation of extremist groups is his jam and that's like half the class.

He's also been making a point to eat lunch in the student cafeteria every Tuesday and Thursday when Mathew gets out of his first class of the day. It's starting to hurt his wallet and his friends are getting suspicious. And the last thing he wants is for them to try and help. But he can't regret it. Angels don't come to Earth very often.

He clicks his pen. Again, and again. His palms are sweating so much his pen might slip and fly out of his hand. His leg bounces with each click. His boot creates a heavy thump. Today will be the day. He doesn't have much of a plan and he may end up shouting something not awesome. He can't wait.

When the professor dismisses them, Gilbert waits in his seat. Mathew carefully puts his collection of books, notebooks, and assorted pens and highlighters into his bag. He gives Gilbert another short look as he stands. Gilbert follows, picking up his sole binder he does. As soon as they're out of classroom he speaks.

He speaks slower and more clearly than the fast and loud way he normally does. Mathew's German is good, but he is still new to the country. "So, Birdie, that new action movie, the one with that chick from that spy thriller, it's showing tonight. Want to come?"

Mathew doesn't even look at him. "It's Wednesday."

"Yeah so?"

"Isn't that an odd day to see a movie?"

"It'll be less crowded."

"You have class in the morning."

Gilbert lips split into a sharp grin. He's considering it, he thinks. Fantasies of Mathew sitting beside him in a dark theater arise. He pictures Mathew stealing glances at him during the movie. Maybe biting his lip shyly all the while. Gilbert could sneak his arm around the back of his seat.

"Don't worry about it."

"No."

"Seriously I'm always up until one anyways. This won't hurt me at all. I'll be just as awesome as always in the morning. Sweet of you to worry though." Gilbert cheerily winks at him.

"No, I don't go to movies."

"You don't go…" Okay he wasn't expecting that. But he could totally handle it. A little thing like his crush disliking the most popular form of entertainment and first date choice, is nowhere near enough to stop him. "That's okay, awesome even. Everybody likes movies. Sheep. Who needs movies? There's plenty of more awesome things we can do. Improv, that club has something going on, with mimes or memes or something."

Mathew's eyebrows scrunch up as he eyes Gilbert's rambling display. "No. I like movies. I'm just not going to one with you."

"Oh." Gilbert's heart plunges to the ground and six feet below. "That's," a disaster, a fatal blow to his dreams, "cool."

Mathew squeaks, turns red, and frantically waves a hand. "No! Not like that! I don't go to movies with anyone. It's…it's kind of my brother and I's thing."

Gilbert fights to keep the relief off his face. He fails. There is still hope. He could carry the day. His heartbeat picks up. Gilbert latches onto the first thought he has. "You have a brother? Me too. Younger or older?"

Mathew stops in the middle of the hallway. The other students move around them, too busy to voice their annoyance. "You didn't know?"

"Ah, no." Did Mathew really think he is a stalker or something? "Do you… you two are really close then?"

Mathew eyes the white haired German beside him. He drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He nods once and starts walking again. "There's an art exhibit in the student center. Do you want to check it out with me?"

Would he? Gilbert doesn't consider himself an art enthusiast. He liked art but he disagreed a lot on what art was. Some of the stuff is cool, like old Greek statuses of naked people and monsters. But most of everything else, not so much. But he knew enough to fake it thanks to his friends bragging. Still, he's pretty sure he is going to hate every single thing in that cold ass building.

"I'd love to."

He hates it and not just because of the clay figure that he thinks is either supposed to be a turd or an ancient unknown god.

He wanted a date or at least a predate hang out which could eventually lead to them gradually falling in love before they realized it. Although Gilbert has definitely skipped a step or two in that plan. Step skipping aside, that's not the issue here.

Within five minutes of arriving a professor Gilbert had never seen, but one that is clearly known to Mathew, had snatched his not-actually-date. And they would not stop talking. He tried to hang in there, but the professor had said he, "shouldn't let them interrupt his fun." And Mathew didn't stop him, which isn't good news for him. But Mathew did not look like he is having fun. He is calm and focused, but his eyes look like they have a thin layer of ice over them. He'd never seen Mathew look like that, so distant and cold. It was wrong. Mathew was made for joy. Soft smiles and smiling eyes suit him best. That he can so easily become something else is worrying.

Gilbert knew there's a lot of things he didn't understand about Mathew. There is so much he doesn't know about him. And he desperately wants to know. It isn't even cool or awesome to be this hung up on someone, but he can't help it.

Gilbert slowly drifts further away from the professor and Mathew but stays within earshot. He listens for a signal to return as he stares unseeing at a section of black and white photos.

He should have held out for the weekend and taken Mathew somewhere nicer. Maybe an aquarium? It would have been romantic, but it would have enough screaming children to play the trip off as something more casual, if that would make Mathew more comfortable. But weekends are the only time Ludwig allows Gilbert to drag him away from his studies. He's probably the best big brother in the world, and proud of it. But fuck, he is never going to get anywhere like this.

"Gil?" His shoulders tense. Oh fuck. He plasters a shit eating grin on his face and spins around on the heel of his shoe. "It is you." Francis says. "I never thought you'd come to see the light of true art. But I suppose if anyone could ignite your artistic passions it would be me."

Gilbert's grin twitches. 'Artistic passions,' sure that was why he came. He swallows down all the sarcastic comments he thinks of. That's probably his first mistake.

Francis' smug grin vanishes. "You are here to see my work, aren't you?"

"Yeah…yeah I wouldn't miss it for…it's awesome. Not the most awesome thing I've ever seen but you shouldn't expect to live up to me. I'm the true work of art after all."

"Oh yes, you're a piece of work my friend. Humor me, what is your favorite one of mine?"

"How can you ask me to choose?" Francis raises an eyebrow and pouts playfully at him. It's his gentle way of demanding an answer. Bribery and public humiliation will be his next choice. "That one I think." Gilbert waves his left hand vaguely in the direction he hopes Francis' work is in.

Francis clicks his tongue. "It's on your right."

"Well you can't expect me to memorize where everything is in a minute."

"It's literally right there, on your right, by your elbow. There aren't even any pictures to your left Gil." Gilbert glances down. It's just as Francis said. There's a black and white still life with a vase of fading roses in the center cradled by two sets of hips with their modesty carefully hidden by wilting rose buds. Damn it, that is actually a pretty good one. And very modest compared to literally anything else Francis has ever shown him before. His nose scrunches up as he debates whether or not that made this whole conversation worse.

"Why are you here my dear Gilbert?"

Gilbert's red eyes dart past Francis's head. What are the chances that he'll be able to distract him? His go to is always to sic him on a passing pretty face or start bitching about his stuffy cousin and his crazy girlfriend. But this place is so empty right now. Few people hang out around campus in the middle of the week. They're all too dead inside at that point in the week. His chances would have been better in one of the dormitories or on the weekend.

He chances a glance at Mathew. Yeah that conversation isn't ending anytime soon. He looks back to Francis. He "loved love" or so he proclaims even when sober and in public. And they were friends. He would help if asked, but Francis tends to do romance all the way or not at all. There is no in between fine wine and gourmet food on a boat covered with candles and a quick one in a janitor closet. Gilbert won't doing anything like either of those tonight.

Meanwhile, Francis had moved closer. Without warning he grabs Gilbert's face, tilts it to the left, and presses his own cheek to Gilberts. "Francis what the fuck!"

"Oh," Francis says, which in no way explains anything to Gilbert. He releases Gilbert and steps back. He frowns and looks back to the left. "Is that Mathew Williams?"

Gilbert blinks. "You know him?" He didn't think they had any classes or activities together. But regardless of how they met, if Francis knew Mathew, then maybe he could help after all.

Francis looks back at him. He runs his tongue over his lips as he chooses his words. "I know of him... through our parents. Did you come here with him or are you spying on him?"

"I am not spying on him," Gilbert hisses. Francis doesn't seem pleased by this admission. Gilbert crosses his arms. Francis sighs heavily as he runs a hand through his shoulder length hair. Then he cups his chin between his fingers while cocking a hip to the side. A twinge of worry shots down Gilberts spine. He knows that look. Francis is plotting something. "What?"

"Nothing you need to worry about just yet. I'll take care of your little problem tonight." Francis tosses back his hair. He turns to approach Mathew and the professor that still had him trapped. Francis pauses, his expensive shoes squeaking, and looks back at him over his shoulder. "Gilbert, be careful," he warns.

That is weird.

With a flounce and a cheery wave Francis has the professor in hand. It is kind of freaky how easily Francis does it. He is so good he has been accused of using pheromones before but Gilbert has never seen any proof of that.

Mathew hesitates and peers suspiciously at Francis before returning to Gilbert. "Sorry about that," he says.

"Don't worry about it Birdie. So, what would you say is your favorite of all these fine works of art?"

They separate that night without a kiss or a lingering look on Mathew's part. But Gilbert stays and watches until Mathew's figure fades away into the darkness. But it isn't the last time they hang out. To Gil's delight Wednesday nights become their thing. They go to comedy shows, a lecture series, and a few moonlight walks. Once when they walked, the moon is their only witness as their hands brushed against each other and their fingers entwine. Gilbert's heart pounds for hours after. They toe the line between friends and lovers but never mention it. Gilbert because he is worried about ruining it before it begins. And Mathew for reasons unknown to Gilbert.

He wants to ask Mathew out. He imagines it every time he sees him. But he hesitates. He'd fallen before. He'd declared, "I'm awesome, single, and you should date me" and at the end found himself clutching a cheap can of beer at one in the morning, crying on Francis's shoulder. He had played this game fast and hard and lost. He wasn't going to risk it now. This is Mathew. He had to be careful, play the long game, lay siege to the gates of love.

He didn't know how long he would have been held in that standoff if not for Francis' intervention.

It breaks at an ice cream social held by some student religious group that Gilbert hadn't bothered to note the name of before he started piling on toppings. Mathew is enjoying his ice cream from across their small table in one of the more comfortable chairs in this lounge/dinning hall. Gilbert's feet are up on the table and half his serving is gone.

Suddenly his feet are knocked to the ground. Gil looks up at the culprit. "Francis! What the hell?"

Francis's hands are on his hips and his normally smiling mouth is pinched. He turns his nose up at Gilbert. "You know better than that my friend."

"So, you charge up and knock me around? With no warning? Not awesome Francis."

"I'm sure I'll survive," he says dismissively. "But I'm not here for you." Francis emphasizes each word. He looks sharply at Mathew.

The younger blond has already set his bowl on the table and folded his hands neatly in his lap. He knew the moment he saw Francis that this time would come, and he tells himself he is ready for it.

His cooperation earns him no leniency with Francis. "What are you doing?"

"Having ice cream with me. Francis back off," Gilbert pushes.

Francis ignores him. "Is this a game to you? Does Alfred know?"

"Francis seriously…"

Mathew shakes his head. "It's not a game."

"Then what is it?" Mathew's knuckles turn white. He can't look at the other two in front of him. "If it were anyone else, I would let you do as you please. But he is my friend."

"It's…"

"You don't have to answer him Birdie. I can take care of myself." He directs the last part at Francis.

"Yes, he does."

"No Francis, I'm warning you."

"Don't you threaten me, not when I'm trying to protect you. You don't know anything about them."

"Them? Who's them?"

"My brother and I. Alfred," Mathew interrupts. He is looking straight at Gilbert. "And he's right. You don't know us that well." He inches towards the edge of his seat. "You should meet Alfred." A refusal rises in Gilbert's throat but catches on his tongue. Mathew's eyes are cold like before but now Gilbert is close enough to see that something else dwells deeper down.

Francis doesn't look satisfied with this. He bites his lip and watches Mathew carefully. It's Francis' obvious distrust that prompts Gilbert to speak.

"What if I don't want to? It's a little early to meet your family anyways," Gilbert says glaring at Francis.

Mathew's shoulders slump. "I would like you to meet him," he presses softly.

"You don't have to feel forced to-"

"I know what I feel. And I'm telling you, if you want this to go any further…" Mathew glances at Francis. "It's time you meet Alfred."

It was decided.

Alfred F. Jones, the only thing Gilbert knows about him is that he's Mathew's brother. Mathew has never said much about him. It is far, far easier to list the things he doesn't know. He doesn't know what Alfred looks like, how old he is, why he is in Germany, or why the brothers have different last names. Is it ok to ask that?

He assumes Alfred is older, since it's necessary that they meet. But thinking about Ludwig, it is possible that he is just a very serious younger brother. Or maybe he is more like Mathew and simply worried.

He isn't even sure why the meeting is necessary or what exactly he is walking into. Every time he asks Mathew if he is getting the shovel talk or being inspected Mathew responds by saying, "not exactly, but yes."

Next Wednesday Mathew rises from his desk without a word to Gilbert. He sweeps his books into his bag and walks out of the classroom. Gilbert follows obediently afterward.

Previously, he had offered to walk Mathew home. Every time Mathew had gracefully declined.

This time, Mathew leads him to an off-campus apartment building. Gilbert had been expecting something nice. Francis had said that he knew Mathew through his parents. His father is a world-renowned pastry chef and his mother is a top-notch corporate lawyer. They run in some pretty ritzy circles. As a result, Francis lives in a large on campus suite. It's to teach him sharing and self-reliance or something like that. It is still leagues above what most students and Gilbert have. This apartment building is still way more than he expected.

As they enter a doorman chimes out a, "Good evening Mr. Williams. Welcome home," and shots a suspicious look at Gilbert in his scuffed-up shoes and torn jeans. He feels dirty in this place. This place is old money. He never thought he'd think that about anything he would see. Like the you could actually have the money to ruin lives, kind of money. Or save them, he thinks with a glance at Mathew. The entrance gleams so much that he swears he can see his reflection judging him in every surface. A large crystal chandelier hangs above them.

There is another man inside the elevator whose entire job seems to be to push elevator buttons and wish them a goodnight.

All of them are silent on the way up. Gilbert watches the numbers as they rise. The building employee keeps the same placid expression the entire way up. Mathew shuffles his feet, nervously glancing at Gilbert occasionally.

The elevator doors open to a second set of doors with buttons in the center. The elevator man turns away and clears his throat as Mathew steps up. Mathew glances back and quietly says, "It's ok he can see," to the elevator man. He types in a quick code and presses his thumb down on the small blank surface. With a beep and whirl the doors slide open to reveal a small bare room with a door on the opposite side. Mathew brushes his hair back behind his ears. His face is slowly reddening. "My parents chose the place. They're big on security."

"No kidding." Mathew huffs a laugh and inserts a key into the door.

The first thing Gilbert sees of the apartment is his own reflection staring wide eyed at him. A mirror run along the wall from their waist up. Mathew hangs his coat up on a set of shiny metal hooks to their left. The walls surrounding them are a dark red.

A mass of white and gray fur runs into the room and throws itself at Mathew's feet. For some reason the fact that Mathew has a cat is more surprising than everything else he's seen. It's cute though. There's a ring of thick grey fur ringing its neck and half circles around its blue eyes. It's paws are too big for the rest of its body. The young cat looks up and cries. It's possibly- no it's definitely the smallest saddest little mew Gilbert has ever heard. Mathew smiles down at the cat.

"Liar!" Gilbert jolts at the shout. It's loud and stern, but not mad or even particularly emotional. The cat screams back at it. "Mattie don't listen to him." The cat screams again. "You do not get fed every time your dish is empty. I just saw you scarf it all down." The cat yowls furiously.

Despite Mathews best efforts, he laughs. He bends down and picks up the furball. It instantly starts wiggling. Mathew follows the shouting into the next room. He lets the cat jump onto a black and white cat tree that's taller than him. The cat flicks his tail in Mathew's face and jumps down to stalk a small round robot gliding across the floor. Mathew's only response is to straighten his glasses.

Gilbert's thought of a million different combinations of what Mathew's brother could be like. But he had never pictured this. He doesn't look any older than Mathew, if you can judge someone's age by looking at their feet. Still in his experience older or more serious individuals don't hang upside down on couches with their feet in the air. Especially not when playing video games. And rarely on black leather couches that probably cost enough to feed several broke university students for months. The television beeps a few times as Alfred exits the game and shuts down the system. His feet slowly disappear as he slides off the couch and onto the floor.

Mathew is clearly not bothered by any of this and walks over to lean against the back of the couch. The brothers exchange a few words in rapid fire English. Then Alfred springs onto his feet.

Yeah, not what he was expecting at all. Mathew wears a lot of button downs and dress pants, as most business majors do. Alfred is wearing faded jeans and a Captain America hoodie. They look very, very similar. Sure, there are differences, all of which made Mathew cuter, but they have to be twins. Still none of the questions he hasn't actually asked have been answered yet.

"Hey, name's Alfred. Nice to meet cha." Alfred grins and offers up a hand to shake.

Without hesitation Gilbert takes hold of his hand. He locks his jaw in pain as they shake. Oh fuck, is Alfred trying to crush his hand? He definitely knows now that Alfred had put some serious thought into his shovel talk. Well, Gilbert would hate to think he doesn't think of Mathew's safety. "Nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Yeah I know. I've heard lots about you. You've heard lots about me too?"

"Al," Mathew says firmly. A look passes between them.

"Yeah ok. So Beilschmidt, thoughts?"

Is Alfred trying to throw him off? His tone sounds too flippant, too carefree, and friendly. This meeting can't be as casual as he is trying to make it sound like.

"Your cat's cute." Mathew smiles at that and Alfred laughs.

"He was a going away present from our doctor." That's weird, right? Alfred's eyes gleam as he waits for a response. This is a test, Gilbert thinks. Well fine, he'd pass with flying colors. Bring it on Jones.

Gilbert stretches his grin as wide as he can. He's been assured by many screaming children that it was a frightening expression. "Well that was cool of him."

Alfred chuckles. "Oh, you have no idea how cool he is." He lifts an eyebrow and winks. Still weird. But Gilbert has to play this cool. Show Mathew how awesome he is and all that. "Are you trying to get in my brother's pants?"

Gilbert chokes. Round one to Jones.

"Alfred," Mathew shouts. "I'm so sorry he's not normally like this."

"Dude! Mattie, you don't normally bring boys home. In fact, this is the first time. This is like my job."

"Al," Mathew all but growls.

"You think it's your job to embarrass him?" Gilbert finds his feet and his anger. Seriously, where does he get off saying that out of nowhere? He sneers at Alfred.

"It's my job to protect him." Alfred says glaring back.

"And that's how you're going to do it?"

"I'll do whatever I have to. How do I know you're not just using him or that you won't decide you like me better?"

"Here we go," Mathew mutters.

"Has that ever happened anywhere outside of a soap opera or are you just that full of yourself?"

"Just because it hasn't happened doesn't mean it won't. We're twins. We're very much alike."

"Yeah you look similar but you're not identical." Alfred raises an eyebrow. A hint of a smug smirk lingers on the corner of his mouth. Everything about his expression screams prove it. "It's like you're both birds, but Mathew's a sweet dove and you're like an eagle. "

For a moment Alfred is silent. This time Gilbert has managed to throw him. Round two goes to me, Gilbert silently cheers. And now for the final round…

Alfred throws back his head and laughs. His whole body shakes with it. "Oh my god. Mattie are you sure you want to hang out with this guy? Eagles are like so much cooler and-"

"And stupider," Gilbert interjects.

"You're clearly like an osprey or something," Alfred continues.

Mathew pinches the bridge of his nose. "Al…"

Gilbert snaps his fingers as the comparison clicks into place in his head. "No, he's got a point there! Cute, smart, and deadly, but it still sounds like a songbird."

"A songbird?" Mathew looks between the two of them as the conversation goes further off the rails.

Gilbert beams. "Yes, a songbird. Like nightingales and turtledoves and other stuff."

"Turtledoves? As in my true love gave to me?" Alfred beams like a child on Christmas. "Do you think Mattie's your true love?" As soon as Alfred is halfway through saying true Gilbert knows where this is going. He's completely red by the time the sentence is finished. He sputters in embarrassment. Maybe he did think so. It doesn't mean he's going to confess to Mathew tonight and definitely not like this.

"Alfred knock it off."

Alfred cackles. "I like him Mattie." He stands up and places his hands on his hips. He looks back at Gilbert with an expression of such exaggerated seriousness that no one can take him seriously. "But you know, Beilschmidt, you hurt him and I'll kill you."

"Not going to happen, I'm too awesome."

"We'll see after tonight. Good luck Mattie." He leans over the coach and presses a kiss to Mathew's cheek. He shoots a last warning look at Gilbert as he walks past him to the door. It's like he's trying to memorize every detail so that he can repeat it to the police. Gilbert and Mathew listen as the doors lock behind him.

"Well that didn't go so bad," Gilbert says. "So, Birdie, where does that leave us? Are we going steady?" He winks at Mathew. It feels like his heart has jumped up into his throat.

Mathew opens his mouth and at first nothing comes out. He tries again. "Gil, we have to talk."

"You know you can't break up with me right after meeting your family. You have to wait at least twenty-four hours." He says it like a joke

"Gilbert." There's coldness in Mathew's voice, if not in his eyes.

"Yeah, ok." Gilbert joins Mathew on the couch. "What do we need to talk about?"

Mathew twists his fingers around each other. He looks at them as if even considering looking elsewhere would be too painful. "It's more like…I have to be honest with you."

"Okay?"

"Alfred's not my brother, not really." Mathew whispers.

"Mattie you know you don't have to tell me if you or him are adopted. Like normally it's the parents that…" Mathew isn't laughing. "What's the matter?"

Mathew closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "We were cloned. That is one of us is the clone of the other. We're not supposed to tell anyone that but you're… I'm serious about this and I think that you deserve to know." Gilbert's heart twisted. "You deserve to have a choice. I can't tell you which one of us is the clone. So, if you want to cut your chances or you don't…if you think that I'm…I'm not holding you to anything here. I'd understand. And Alfred won't-"

Gilbert launches to his feet. His jaw is clenched tight in anger. He grinds his teeth together. "Are you kidding me right now? God damn it Mathew. Are you fucking serious?" Mathew flinches back. He presses a hand to his mouth. His eyes are so wet and watery.

"No Birdie," Gilbert growls. He yanks on his hair. He's fucked this up badly. He kneels on the floor before Mathew. "Listen to me. I knew something was wrong with you and your brother-"Mathew squeezes his eyes tight.

"I'm saying this all wrong. Please don't cry I'm not mad at you. None of this is your fault." I just thought you parents were assholes or something. Gilbert takes a deep breath. He has to get his temper under control.

He presses a hand to Mathew's cheek. He holds it there silently until Mathew looks at him. He needs him to see how much he means this. "You are one of the most thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful people I've ever met."

Mathew pulls himself free. "For all you know, I'm not a person at all."

How dare they. How could his parents leave that thought to fester in his head? How could any one ever let Mathew doubt that he meant less than anyone else? The rage boils up again.

"That's bullshit and you know it! You'd never say that about Alfred and he'd never say it about you. You love each other and it doesn't matter what other people say you are. And I don't give a shit. I don't care how you came to be in this world, Mathew Williams. All that matters is that you're here." And I will never let you doubt it, Gilbert vows to himself. "I think love you."

Mathew quivers and careens forward. He collapses into Gilbert's arms. They fall back to the floor. Their knees knock together. It is graceless and painful. Neither of them care. Gilbert wraps his arms around Mathew and presses him close. Mathew shakes with sobs. Years of pent up grief and rage must be pouring out of him. His glasses dig painfully into Gilbert's shoulder. He doesn't say a word about it.

Regardless of what comes next this is what Mathew needs now and he'll let him have it. He turns his head and presses kisses into Mathew's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: If you have the time, I would appreciate a review.
> 
> Just to clarify some things. Francis does not know the details, but he knows that one of the Jones-Williams is supposedly a clone and anyone involved in that is trouble in his opinion. Also, in this AU Alfred is younger.


End file.
